Resigned to Fate
by deaths demise
Summary: Merlin's magics' been revleaed! Now he's in a dungeon awating his execution! What will happen in the end and will Arthur hate him or stand by his loyal manservant? not very original plotline but worth the read!


Hiya! Hope you like this story.

Summary: Merlin's magic has been discovered and he awaits his execution.

Please read and review. Flamers will be burned.

Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin.

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He sat in the cell, shackles straining, cutting into thin flesh, blood dripping and drying to the metal links. Outside the wind howled ominously, an icy gust coming and sending chills along his skin from time to time. Shuddering from the coldness, he coughed harshly.

He no longer knew or cared how long he'd been there. Only knowing it was far longer than it should have been, far far too long. Many sunrises had come and gone... when only one should have been. He's no longer sure when his execution should have been, only that it should have been a long time ago.

Afterall, he'd been found out as a sorcerer in front of King Uthur himself. It was a death sentence to perform magic and people had died for the merest superstition of being one, he'd done it in front of the entire court and King. He should be dead by now.

Yet, he still breathed, albeit shallowly and painfully, still sat in his dank cell awaiting his death; awaiting the fire.

He supposed he should be happy about it, but he'd been resigned to this fate, to death since coming to Camelot. He knew the risk he was taking, having magic and living under the same roof as the man who despised and outlawed sorcery. Knew he would ultimately die for that which he could not help.

He felt no regrets though. He only hoped that he'd done enough for Arthur to make it to the throne, to complete his destiny.

If he could do it all over again, he would not change a thing. He knew he'd done the right thing and helped a lot of people with his magic.

He was glad that Uthur had issued that he have no visitors. He did not think he could take it, nor did he want them to see him like this. He only hoped that when they finally got round to executing him that Gaius and Gwen weren't there. Even though, deep down he knew they would come, so that he would not be alone at the end. So that he knew he had friends and people who loved him. But he did not want them to see that. Not Gaius who was like a father to him, who'd cared and helped him, who'd done his best to protect him. He knew his death would destroy Gaius, that Gaius saw him as a son.

He did not want the man who meant so much to see him die in such a gruesome way.

Then there was Gwen. Sweet, kind, gentle Guinevere, who'd already, lost her father to Uthur's hatred of magic. Her tears would be too much to bear. Yet, he knew she would be present at his execution no matter how much it hurt and destroyed her.

He only hoped she and Gaius would be okay and be able to cope with his death. If they ever got round to it that is!

He didn't have a clue what was taking them so long though, usually they executed a sorcerer as soon as possible.

It was not the fact that he was going to die which was getting to him but the fact they were keeping him down in this dank cell in endless wait and torment.

Distantly he heard the metallic clang of the dungeon door opening, followed closely by the sounds of footsteps descending the stairs. He knew that he was currently the only prisoner, which meant that they were coming for him at last.

Glancing at the high window of the cell, he figured the sun to be late in the sky, dusk falling over the land, an unusual time for an execution by Uthur's standards. But he could not fathom why else guards would be entering the dungeon. They had not brought him food for a while now, after realising that he did not bother eating anything the guards saw fit to bring him, despite how deliciously good a lot of it smelled, far better than what he usually got to eat with Gaius. But, what was the point in eating any of it, when he was going to be killed... eventually. It was a total waste of resources, utterly pointless. Though, doubtless the cook was frustrated and worried with him, the two of them having an understanding and friendship between them. Of course, that was unless she hated him now she knew he was a sorcerer. Even if, he was a warlock and not a sorcerer.

He struggled to stand properly, rather than sag in the chains as he had been doing, hearing the footsteps growing nearer.

Exhaustion and starvation having long since set in. His bones now jutting out, his skin a mixture of deathly pale, clammy with a sick yellow tint to it. Grime, dirt and sweat covered his clothes and body. The cell stank of filth; mingling with the chill icy air and damp of the walls.

He should be grateful that was all he had to suffer. That no guards had entered the cell to punish him for his crimes, as was not unusual when a sorcerer was captured and waiting execution. He was both thankful and confused by that oddity.

He'd only just managed to get his battered and broken body into a standing position when three people arrived at the door. His breath escaped him in disbelief, for it wasn't the ones he expected to be there. Yes, two of them were knights of Camelot, but they were not two of the ones he expected to come. These two knights he considered to be his friends and he knew they reciprocated such beliefs.

'I suppose they wish to prove their loyalty to the King and to the kingdom. I guess it makes sense and I cannot begrudge them it. So long as they are safe.' He thought passively. He would not make this any harder for them than it would already be.

However he did not know how to react to the person standing between the knights. The Prince of Camelot. He'd purposefully been avoiding thinking of him, dreading what he must think of him now. After all the lies and betrayal, the secrets he'd kept, the trust he'd misused.

Sir Leon unlocked the cell door, banging it open, allowing him to have a proper view of the prince for the first time since his magic had been revealed.

In truth, he did not want to face this, face what the prince must now think of him. He'd been hoping to avoid it. He could not take the hatred and disgust should Arthur have taken after his father on the matter of magic. There was no reason to think otherwise. Yet, he could not help but hope that he'd managed to teach the prince about how life really worked and that his death would not undo any of it.

The three stepped inside of the cell and came to stop in front of him. Silently assessing him. All was silent save for his own laboured breathing. Struggling to compose himself, he locked his gaze with the prince's own pale blue ones. He decided it was pointless to draw this out and would only weaken his resolve.

However, the disuse of his voice and dryness of his mouth resulted in him only producing a wheezy murmur before descending into a horrendous body wracking coughing fit. Moments passed, as they all mutely waited for him to regain his breathing. Finally, he was able to choke out a whispered, "Sire." Breathing, now shallower than before, vision dimming every now and again, eyes brimming with unshed tears.

No matter how resolute he believed himself to be in this, at the end of the day he did not want to die. Not like this, not now and certainly not like this.

He had no more time to muse for it seemed the prince had finished assessing him and decided to speak.

"Come Merlin. It's time to go." His tone was no different from any other day when he was issuing orders. Nodding to the chains holding him in place, Sir Leon moved forwards to unlock them, as the other knight, Sir B moved to grab a hold of him as his legs buckled beneath him, what little muscles and strength he had all gone.

Between them, they got him into some semblance of standing and they began the tedious trek out of the dungeons, the prince leading the way. There progress made immensely slow due to the poor condition of his body. Once more events were not following the norm for when a sorcerer was found and arrested. But his mind was far too hazy to try and decipher what it all meant. He was just grateful that they were finally acting.

After what seemed to be an age, they arrived at the top of the dungeon stairs. The warm evening air was a blessing to his chilled skin and bones. It was not until they had headed further down the hallway and turned up a flight of stairs that he realised they were not heading to the courtyard but rather further into the palace.

'Maybe it is to be a private execution in the great hall before the royal court.' He thought absently, not particularly caring.

After a while there pace slowed down further and oddly enough they had not encountered anyone in the halls nor was there any noise emanating from anywhere else. Yet, another oddity.

Before them, the prince opened a door and closed it after the knights had carefully negotiated him though it.

"Over there, on the bed." The prince's voice floated through the haze of his mind, startling him to look upwards and take in their surroundings.

He was in the prince's chambers! This amazement was enough to give him a burst of adrenaline.

"Sire! W-why are w-we here? What's going on?"

He tried in vain to turn and gaze at the prince, his body too bruised to obey and the knights' hold on him too strong, until they lowered him onto the prince's own comfortable bed.

"Send for Gaius, inform Gwen and take up position outside my chambers, none but them may enter and that's an order." Once more the prince's voice was its norm, yet there seemed to more steel there than usual. He was quite obviously angered and on edge.

The door clicked softly, signalling the exit of both knights, meaning he was now alone with the prince.

Not comfortable lying here in the prince's bed whilst he stood elsewhere in the room and certainly not under such circumstances, he tried to push his body upwards, only to find that he could not. Pain shot through him as he tried, a sharp hiss of agony escaping his chapped cracked lips. Collapsing back against the pillows in fatigue, he resigned himself to wait out his fate... whatever it may be.

It was not long before he felt the bed dip beside him, as the prince settled himself on the edge. A calloused hand found its way to his cheek, tenderly stroking it, while another hand grabbed a hold of one of his own in a strong yet gentle embrace.

Confused by such kindness and in truth by everything that had just occurred, he opened his eyes and caught the guilty sorrowful gaze of the prince. What shocked him the most was the tears he could see falling from those eyes, down pale shaken cheeks. It was the first time that he realised just how ill-kept and disarrayed the prince looked, almost as if he too had spent the past few days in the dungeons.

"S-sire?" He croaked out, only to receive a negative shake of the head and a shushing motion.

"Shush, not now Merlin, you need to save your strength. Gaius will be here soon. He'll make you all better. He'll fix this. He has to. I... I can't..." By the end, the prince's voice had gotten softer and more guilt-filled. He was pretty certain he was not meant to here the last few thoughts. More confusion racked his body at this uncommon and unexpected show of humanity and concern on the prince's part.

"W-why, why are y-you doing this? W-why am I not being executed?" He had to ask, needed to understand, to know what was going on.

"WHAT!" Outraged, the prince's grip tightened, before abruptly letting go, more guilt flashing in his eyes at the undue pain he'd just caused his servant. Leaping to his feet, he paced in front of his bed, brushing a hand through his already mussed hair. "Merlin, I cannot believe you are asking me that! Did you really believe that I would just stand by and let you be killed? And after you saved my life, no less! Honestly Merlin, you complete idiot, how could you think that!" Near the end of his rant, he returned to the edge of his bed and retook hold of Merlin's hand, encasing it in both his own. "Merlin, listen to me." His voice was soft and caring, full of emotion he usually kept locked behind his arrogant attitude. "You, are very very dear to me. You're my friend, one of the truest ones I have. I could never let you be killed for something that was out of your control and especially when you did it to save me!"

Again, the prince stroked his cheek tenderly. A small sigh escaped his lips, muscles he did not even know had been tensed slowly relaxed.

"You can't go dying on me now okay? Not after all I went through to get you released and after you used magic in front of the king no less! So you need to stay strong, for me, okay? I need you."

A hesitant smile on the usually strong confident face tore at his heart. Doing his best, he tried to return that smile, but it felt like more of a grimace, however the message obviously got across as he saw Arthur nod in relief and understanding.

"Th-thank you Sire." He wanted to say more, but yet another coughing fit cut him off. This one not as bad as the others and did not last as long. He already felt so much better just being out of the dungeons and in the warmth.

"No Merlin, it's the least I could do. I should have done more. Got you out of there sooner, been more insistent, stormed the dungeon and forced you to eat. Why the hell did you stop eating! Don't you know how hard it was to get them to allow such good food to be allowed down to you... and and you just stop eating! God, Merlin you any idea how much that terrified me, that you were down there starving and the nights aren't exactly warm anymore. Damn it, you can't do that to me! You cannot go scaring me like that!" More tears were falling down Arthur's cheeks now. Both of his hands running up and down Merlin's bruised body, in reassurance that Merlin was actually there, that it was real and to try and get warmth back into Merlin's bones and body.

"Oh and Merlin, its Arthur."

A small laugh escaped the two of them at that remark.

There was still much to discuss and a long road of recovery ahead both physical and emotionally in Merlin's case but it was a road they would traverse together. For now it was enough that Merlin was safe and well and that Arthur did not condemn him for having magic.

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Okay well that's all. Hope you like it!

I know the ending may seem a little abrupt but that's the way I intended it to be. Hopefully the emotions came across okay and as for all the 'he's' ect well it was meant to show how Merlin's mind is a little scattered and bruised from his confinement or something like that anyway!

Anyway that's all! Bye!


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